Dill beans ready for canning

I spent most of the weekend preserving the garden’s bounty: shredding cabbage for sauerkraut, slicing tomatoes for the dehydrator, boiling large batches of zucchini marmalade (which tastes much better than it sounds), and pickling all kinds of vegetables. From Middle Eastern pickled turnips to classic American bread-and-butter cukes, I spent hours picking and chopping and brining. If I don’t put things up for winter, I feel like I’m failing the garden. Why bother nurturing seedlings in March if I’m going to let them rot in August? It’s gratifying to line the cellar walls with rows of full jars, and even more so to bring some up mid-winter.

The one disappointment of the weekend, though, was the dilly beans. After packing five quart-jars with dill heads, trimmed beans, and the mustard seed that Karl had been diligently threshing all through the girls’ nap time, I lost not one, but two jars in the canner. The first shattered as soon as I plunged it into the boiling the water–probably an imperfection in the jar. The second, though, exploded 8 minutes into its water bath. I’m pretty sure that was my error–I’m afraid I tightened the screw-band so much that the beans didn’t have space to expand. Though it’s probably not sound pickling technique, I left the other jars in the vinegary water bath, and they all sealed for me. I scooped the floating beans out of the boiling water, rinsed them a dozen times, and sautéed them for dinner. Beatrice liked them so much that she took a break from dessert to finish off the last in the serving bowl. Lessons learned: canning jars will explode if the screw-bands are too tight, and fried dilly beans are awesome!

Food dilly beans, food preservation, pickles, problems canning, water bath canning

Summer Vegetable Stew

The girls woke early from their naps yesterday and, grouchy and sleepy, they wandered down to the garden with me. Half an hour later, their moods had improved and we had all the fixin’s for supper: fistfuls of basil, baskets piled with carrots, fingerlings, onions, tomatoes, patty pans, a few sprigs of herbs, and whatever green beans Bea hadn’t gobbled up already. This stew, from Deborah Madison’s lovely book, Local Flavors, is one of my favorites this time of year. I cut a few corners–leaving my tomatoes unpeeled and unseeded and my green beans whole, and changing the proportions of vegetables to suit what’s ready for harvest. In last night’s version, I went heavy on the sage and summer squash, and all but the shell beans, bell pepper and olive oil came from the garden.

Shell Beans and Summer Vegetables Stewed in Their Own Juices

Bea can't get enough!

Recipes Garden, recipe, vegetable stew

Our growing herd of dairy goats was definitely one of the main attractions for those stopping by on Saturday

It was an honor and a great pleasure to be included among the farms on this year’s Backyard Locavore tour, and Saturday was a perfect day to show folks around the homestead. After a week spent mowing and trimming and tidying up the place, Karl and I put out some chévre and, with the help of the Cooperative Extension Office’s excellent volunteers, took turns answering questions and leading people through our gardens, orchard, and root cellar/cheese cave/basement.

Eating locally, like so many of our major life changes, has snuck up on us: every year, the garden and poultry flocks expand, the goat herd multiplies, and I become a little more proficient at food preservation. And each year, as we weed and milk and can, we come a little closer to self-sufficiency. Showing visitors around gave us a chance to focus on what we’re doing right–instead of seeing all the projects we haven’t finished (raised asparagus beds, anyone?), we saw tomato vines leaning with heavy clusters of fruit, 100 heads of garlic curing in the root cellar, and pumpkins so big that our girls can’t lift them. The hens are laying, the broilers are fattening, and the ducks have added fallen apples and acorns to their diet. The homestead chugs along, and we are so so lucky to be along for the ride.

Master Gardener and Master Preserver Rae Belanger (and master-in-the-making Charlotte) answered everyone’s questions about jams and jellies.

Ten Apple Farm herb and smoked paprika chévre

Agriculture Backyard Locavore tour, cooperative extension office, Garden, locavore

A grasshopper in the tarragon

Yes, they’re a Biblical scourge. And yes, they’re nibbling holes in our plants. But there’s something so lovely and summery about a grasshopper at rest on a leaf.

Garden

The snack bar

We’re in that wonderful time of year when the tail end of blueberry season overlaps with the beginning of blackberries. In the brambles at the edge of the orchard, fat blackberries seem to have ripened over night, and the clusters I’ve been protecting from the goats have turned from hard and green to deep purple that drips with juice when you brush them. In the blueberry patch, the last clumps of berries are tucked beneath the leaves, and picking them is like a treasure hunt.

The canes behind the girls’ swing set are completely off-limits to grown ups–we call them “the snack bar”–but every day I do a sweep of the rest of the property, picking whatever I can before the birds do. When the blackberries are in full swing, I’ll make a big batch of jam, but this morning I felt like making a quick treat for breakfast: black and blueberry preserves. The natural pectin in the fruit gives it a nice texture–firm enough to spread on biscuits and cornbread, but gloppy enough to spoon over ice cream.

Black and Blueberry Preserves

Food, Recipes blackberries, blueberries, preserves, Recipes

A trio of pattypans

We planted pattypan squash for the first time this year, and now that they’re maturing (in abundance!), we’re not quite sure what to do with them. Do we pick them when they’re small, glossy and still faintly green (my preference)? Or do we wait until they’re matte white and spaceship-shaped (Karl’s)? And how to cook them? We’re looking for ideas, and we’ll also be fiddling around on our own. Check back for our favorite recipes–in the meantime, any tips?

Food, Garden pattypan squash, summer squash

The last quadrant of the garden, all planted except for one last row. Help us decide what to plant!

For the first time ever, we’ve planted the entire garden! This may not seem like a huge accomplishment, but it’s something that we’ve never, in the five years that we’ve lived on our farm, been able to manage. We always seem to leave a few rows unplanted or overgrown–I call them “Snake Hollows” because they act as a wildlife refuge–and by this time in the season we’ve usually given up on reclaiming them. But as of last weekend, we have everything in, from the leafy potatoes to the creeping squashes to the new, spindly peppers (we don’t have much hope that they’ll be productive, but we’re trying). Everything, that is, except for one final row, sandwiched between the newly planted bok choy and carrots. Any suggestions on what we should plant? Here’s some of what we’ve got for leftover seed, help us choose!

• Another round of radishes
• Broccoli
• Broccoli Raab
• More carrots
• More bush beans
• More beets
• Another round of arugula

Check in on Monday to find out what wins the row!

Garden Garden, planting

Pretty peas

It’s peak pea season in the garden, and we’ve picked, shelled, and frozen at least 5 pounds in the last week. The plants bounced back from the groundhog’s attack last month, and there are still pods to be picked before we tear out the rows and their birch trellises this weekend. A few more rows of broccoli are going in soon, but in the meantime, the goats have been nibbling on the empty pods and the girls have been sneaking as many sweet, raw peas as they can. When we get a chance to cook them, our house favorite is to simply steam them in their own juice with a smear of butter, and toss them with a little parsley.

Garden Garden, pea pods, peas

Doing the berry mash.

Master Preserver Allison Duffy led a great class at the farm this Saturday, and over the course of the morning, she patiently answered all of my questions about pectin. The short answer: using packaged pectin powder takes out the guesswork. This jam is delicious, and the (relatively) low amount of sugar in it allows the fruit to take center stage. Click here for more photos of our workshop and the jam-making process.

Allison Duffy’s Strawberry Jam

Recipes, Workshops jam, pectin, Recipes, strawberry jam

One of many jars of strawberry sauce in our pantry

Every year, our family celebrates the Fourth of July with an outing to the pick-your-own strawberry fields in the next town over. In the weeks preceding, the girls and I usually pick the majority of our haul, but we like to go at least once as a family so Karl can share in the stained fingers and sweaty backs, and enjoy the treat of hot berries, fresh from the field.

This year, strawberry season came so early that by the time we got out there, the pickin’s were slim. What were left were hot, jammy berries, nearly cooked by the sun. (Reminding me of the recipe for “Sunshine Strawberry Preserves” that I’ve always found off-putting in my 1964 copy of the Joy of Cooking: Sprinkle sugar on strawberries, heat until boiling, then set in the sun for a few days until they turn to jam.) Between the four of us, we picked ten pounds that were so juicy they left a puddle in the back of the car.

At home, I set to work cleaning berries to make a year’s worth of preserves. I followed a recipe and added sugar and some lemon juice, bringing the mixture to a boil until a thick head of pink foam climbed the sides of the pot. I tested it for sheeting, but no gel. Straying from my recipe, I added a little packaged pectin, but still no gel. Finally, I gave up on getting it to gel and sealed the sauce in jars–the preserves were delicious and I was afraid I’d overcook them if I kept fiddling around.

I’ve consulted several cookbooks, two of whom warn that using over ripe berries will prevent jam from setting. Harold McGee’s explanation of pectin in On Food and Cooking left me with more questions than answers. This Saturday, Master Preserver Allison Duffy will be teaching a workshop on strawberry jam at the farm–I’m hoping she’ll unlock the mystery of pectin! There are still spots left, so contact us if you’re interested in signing up.

Family, Food, Workshops homesteading workshops, pectin, strawberries, strawberry sauce, workshop